


A Civil Arrangement

by PolypusRegina



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Clothed Sex, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Miscommunication, POV Hux, Post-Canon, Some light angst, The boys have Feelings(tm), The fastest slow burn you'll ever read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 17:02:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8541406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PolypusRegina/pseuds/PolypusRegina
Summary: If Hux and Kylo couldn’t convince the entire Order--the entire galaxy-- that they were as close as lovers, and without a single drop of bad blood between them, he would force them to make the union official. There would be no pretending. It would be very real and very horrible and they would be stuck together no matter how much they fought and sneered and despised each other. They would get three weeks.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [katherine1753](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katherine1753/gifts).



> For my darling katherine1753, who made the mistake of reblogging a post about the fake married/fake relationship trope and got me thinking. <3

It’s a horrible arrangement, as far as Hux is concerned.

 

A _civil union_ is the last thing they need, as if First Order officers and their allies alike will be swayed by the thought of their co-commanders being in a committed relationship. He isn’t sure what struck their Supreme Leader to even _consider_ such an absurd idea. It only goes to show how out of touch Snoke can be, when it comes to human emotions. His manipulation can only reach so far, can only do so much. Now he needs a little help to keep up the charade that things are under control.

 

But Hux’s best efforts to change his mind were swiftly shut down. Snoke feared that after the Starkiller failure, loyalty and morale would be dangerously low, and what they needed was a united front moving forward. It was no secret that Hux and Kylo were...a bit _divided_. But an apology and a firm handshake weren’t going to be enough to fix that. No--Snoke wasn’t in the mood to play games. He was only generous enough for a single barter:

 

If Hux and Kylo couldn’t convince the entire Order--the entire _galaxy_ \-- that they were as close as lovers, and without a single drop of bad blood between them, he would force them to make the union official. There would be no pretending. It would be very real and very horrible and they would be stuck together no matter how much they fought and sneered and _despised_ each other.

 

They would get three weeks.

 

* * *

 

Four days in and Snoke proves that once again, he isn't taking the agreement lightly. It isn't enough for them to put on a facade in public, standing closer to each other than they might have before, sharing forced touches meant to look casual.

 

No, he insists that they share living quarters now, too. And Hux is nothing short of furious.

 

The suite they share is nice, of course, but it isn't his own space anymore. The privacy he had was gone, his comforts dwindling into nothing as he stares at a single bed, draped in dark sheets, everything tucked crisply into place. There's still a disgusted look on his face when he glances up to see Kylo standing across from him, regarding the piece of furniture with a different sort of expression. Confusion, maybe. Something almost strangely innocent about it, as though he keeps forgetting that he no longer has his mask to hide his face and the emotions scrawled so messily across it.

 

“I sleep on the right,” Hux mutters, as though begrudgingly admitting defeat. He's too tired to argue or make a fuss. He just wants to take a shower and go to bed.

 

And so he does just that, brushing past Kylo on his way to the refresher without another word.

 

He makes the water almost painfully hot. Scrubs his skin and his face and his hair as though he might be able to cleanse himself of this whole charade, eager to watch it swirl down the drain. But he knows better. He’ll leave the bathroom and Kylo will still be there. His nightmare will continue until someone finally breaks, or until Snoke decides that he's satisfied. He isn't sure which he'd prefer.

 

And when he pads barefoot back into the bedroom, Kylo is indeed still there.

 

Asleep. On the floor.

 

Hux tries to consider it a blessing, relieved that Kylo must clearly hate the idea of sharing a bed as much as he does. But when he crawls into bed alone, it doesn't feel like a victory at all. It feels wrong.

 

Hux doesn't get much sleep that night.

 

* * *

 

By the time Hux wakes the next day, Kylo’s already gone, which he doesn’t find too surprising. In his place on the floor is a neatly folded blanket and one pillow, and Hux stares at it for a moment, unsure of what to think. Kylo hadn’t put them back on the bed, which could only mean he was leaving them there for the next night to come.

 

He can’t believe he actually feels a pang of sympathy for the man, something sinking in the pit of his stomach. At least...until that feeling is swiftly replaced by something more like anger.

 

No, why was Kylo to be _pitied_? Hux hadn’t asked him to sleep on the floor. He’d made his choice. He was the one to decide sleeping like a dog was preferable to sleeping next to Hux.

 

He clenches his jaw, quashing the swell of emotion like an insect under the heel of his boot. He absolutely refused to feel hurt at the thought of being so repulsive to his fake partner. It doesn’t matter.

 

The feeling is mutual.

 

...He has things to do.

 

* * *

 

It’s ironic, Hux realizes, that forcing them to live together has probably made them seem like less of a couple than ever.

 

Over the next three days, he hardly speaks to Kylo, hardly even sees him. He feels a little flicker of something when they pass in the hall, or when he lifts his head to meet Kylo’s gaze in the middle of a conference he’s now required to be a part of. But what that _something_ is, he can’t really say. It’s foreign and unwelcome, neither good nor bad and he wishes it would just stop already.

 

Maybe it’s guilt. Kylo still sleeps on the floor in their bedroom while Hux takes up barely a sliver of the oversized mattress meant for them both. He reminds himself that he still isn’t asking Kylo to do it, that nothing is stopping him from getting up and climbing into bed. But it still feels like his fault. He should be reasonable and tell Kylo all of that, that he’s _allowed_ to share the mattress.

 

But he doesn’t. Hasn’t. Not yet.

 

It isn’t until the following night that anything finally changes.

 

Hux tries to tell himself that he’s only doing it because of the consequences they’ll face if he doesn’t. He fully intends to scold Kylo like a stubborn child, ready to tell him just how selfish he’s being. If they don’t shape up, one uncomfortable week will turn into two, will turn into three, and then every week for the rest of their damned lives. Whatever problem he has with being so close to Hux, he needs to get over it.

 

Except...It doesn’t quite go like that.

 

Hux is already in bed by the time Kylo finally shows up, and when he drags himself into their bedroom, Hux can’t decide if he’s enraged or relieved. He was beginning to wonder if the Knight was going to show at all, but he isn’t sure Kylo would risk invoking Snoke’s wrath by going against his orders and refusing to share a room.

 

But clearly he’s not in much of a rebellious mood. Really, he looks exhausted, moving slow and heavy. He doesn’t so much as glance up at Hux at all, instead heading straight into the bathroom. And when he finally returns, he’s stripped down to his undershirt and sleep pants, hair looking just a touch damp.

 

Predictably, he bypasses the bed altogether and moves to the same spot he’s occupied on the floor for the past four nights.

 

“Ren,” Hux sighs, setting his datapad aside and sweeping a hand through his hair instead. He leans forward, pulling his legs up under himself so he can sit up a bit straighter. “Just get into bed already, won’t you?”

 

He fixes the Knight with a tired sort of look, quietly imploring. _Please don’t fight me on this you stubborn bastard._

 

To his credit, Kylo meets his gaze and doesn’t waver. He stares into Hux like he might be digging for something in his head, but Hux doesn’t think he actually is. He’d probably feel it if he were. But it still makes him want to squirm with some other indescribable sensation.

 

“All right.”

 

Kylo relents with a little nod and finally looks away, fidgeting a bit with the blanket held in his hands. Hux is surprised at how easy it is to convince him, but doesn't push his luck by saying anything else. Instead he just watches as Kylo bends down to gather up his pillow and steps around to the other side of the bed.

 

Kylo slips in under the covers beside him without any further hesitation, his body sinking into the mattress. Hux swears he can feel an empathetic sort of relief, his own muscles relaxing as he imagines the way Kylo must feel in an actual bed after days spent on a hard floor. He feels like he can breathe a little easier.

 

Kylo lies on his side, facing away from Hux with an impressive ravine between them but the General hardly minds. It's still a drastic improvement. And without anything else stopping him, he makes himself comfortable as well, settling in with a quiet sigh.

 

The lights dim all the way to black, until only the stars are left to guide them. And that's when Hux hears a whisper that he isn't entirely sure makes any noise at all.

 

_Thank you._

 

* * *

 

Things are easier after that. Which is perhaps an odd word for it, but Hux isn't sure what else to say. It feels like some of the tension between them has finally loosened up, and he no longer feels the twitchy pangs of frustration and guilt when he catches Kylo’s eye, or feels an arm brush purposefully--if not still a bit awkwardly--against his own.

 

And maybe part of him still wants to call it _defeat_ , as if that tension is only gone because he gave up too easily. He should have stood his ground, should have laid it all out for Kylo like an adult who demands respect and proper communication--not a partner who acts like a sulky teenager.

 

But did it really matter? They weren’t _really_ in a civil union. They weren’t really partners. What difference does it make what Kylo thinks of him, so long as they manage to keep up the illusion that they’re together because they choose to be?

 

That’s all that matters, Hux tells himself.

 

* * *

 

He says it again as he moves to climb into bed a few nights later, when Kylo has beaten him there for the first time since they began this whole mess.

 

He'd spent most of the morning with him in more negotiation talks, but after they parted ways, Kylo left for his training while Hux tended to his usual duties elsewhere. And somewhere along the way, his evening began to feel--...no, he wasn't going to say _lonely._ Quiet.

 

Yes, it was quiet.

 

As he looks down at him, it seems as though Kylo might already be out cold, dead to the world as his shoulders rise and fall with each breath. Hux tries to move carefully, pulling up the covers so he can slip under them without waking him (surely Kylo is exhausted from his training, and the least he can do is let the man get some rest, that's all). And at first it seems to work, as he wriggles down beneath the sheets, but as soon as he lets himself relax, he feels the mattress shift to his right.

 

Hux freezes, hoping that Kylo might settle back down. And he does. But only after rolling over onto his other side--the one now facing him. The movement puts them so dangerously close together, Kylo’s hand brushing his bare arm, and Hux feels his breath hitch.

 

He spares a glance over, but Kylo’s eyes are shut, his expression soft and slack as he slumbers on. He watches Kylo draw in a deeper breath, fingers curling in the sheets and against his skin, and there's that damnable little hitch again, catching in the back of his throat before he blows out another quiet breath and turns his face toward the ceiling above.

 

He doesn't move any closer to Kylo.

 

But he doesn't move away, either.

 

* * *

 

By morning, though, it's a different story. Hux wakes to Kylo still in bed. He knows this because he'd apparently rolled over onto his side as well, body curled in toward the sleeping Knight, pressed so closely together that it startles Hux a bit when he opens his eyes.

 

It feels so overwhelmingly intimate despite the fact that they're barely even touching, close enough he can almost feel Kylo’s breath on his face. Hux _never_ lets anyone so close to him, not when he’s standing on the bridge, not when he’s _unconscious_ for heaven’s sake. It’s so absurdly vulnerable. And in that brief moment of calm before it all sinks in, it feels...nice. He’s comfortable, relaxed in a way he hasn’t felt for weeks. Stars help him, he even starts to burrow in even closer to Kylo’s warmth! But his brain doesn't know how to process the turn of events, floundering for a moment before he finally gathers his wits and scrambles out of bed as if he's an hour late for his shift.

 

But Hux is dressed and gone before he can realize he's woken Kylo--who knows perfectly well that he's not.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the day doesn’t quite go as smoothly as he’d hoped, but given his awkward morning, he knew he should have expected as much.

 

Kylo joins him as he oversees part of the new Stormtrooper conditioning program, but every time Hux reaches for him, every time he takes a step closer, Kylo pulls away. It’s subtle at first. Hux isn’t sure it’s intentional, and he doesn’t let it distract him from his actual duties. But by the time he’s ready to move on, it’s as painfully obvious as a slap to the face.

 

Hux doesn’t even try anything as drastic as holding hands, instead simply resting a hand on Kylo’s shoulder as he brushes past him. But even that proves to be too much, as he feels the Knight go tense, stiff and uninviting in a way that isn’t mere surprise.

 

“I’m sure you can handle it from here,” Kylo murmurs, voice clipped and struggling for something neutral as he promptly pulls away and heads straight for the exit.

 

It catches Hux off-guard. Despite his odd behavior, he hadn’t been expecting him to go running like he was about to be physically sick. And before he can even process what he’s doing, Hux has a hand wrapped around Kylo’s wrist, holding him in place and thwarting his escape.

 

Kylo freezes, glancing back at Hux with a look of pure surprise. And for a moment, Hux is sure his own expression must match it, until he manages to get ahold of himself.

 

“Where do you have to be that's so important?” He says, gaze narrowing, his hold on Kylo loosening but not slipping away entirely. Kylo looks down at their hands and swallows hard.

 

“Is that something that you should really be concerned with?” He answers, not looking back up just yet. He doesn't make any move to pull away, though, and Hux certainly takes notice. “You have more important things demanding your attention.”

 

“ _You_ should be demanding my attention,” Hux all but snarls, taking a step closer until he and Kylo are barely an inch apart and his words are a harsh whisper as he continues. “For once I welcome it, and you waste every opportunity. I try to be cordial and you act like you can't stand the sight of me!”

 

“Me?” Kylo does look up then, meeting Hux’s gaze with more surprise--but this time with anger and disbelief bleeding in around the edges. “Like you're any different. You'd be happier if I was back on the floor, wouldn't you? Gods forbid I let myself get comfortable around you--I don’t even need to look inside your head to know how much it disgusts you.”

 

Kylo finally pulls his hand away with a sharp tug, and Hux is too stunned to try and stop him.

 

“What are you talking about? I _asked_ you to sleep with me,” he says, almost feeling a little panicked at the thought of Kylo running off without any explanation. He can’t suffer another day of sulky silences and burning guilt. He did everything right, didn’t he?

 

Kylo’s mouth twitches a little, as if he might have been tempted to laugh. But he doesn’t.

 

“You’re right, you did. And I appreciate that. I’ll just... try a little harder to keep my distance tonight.”

 

With that, Kylo finally does turn to leave, his footsteps heavy as he disappears into the hall and the door seals shut behind him. Hux is left standing there alone, his troopers carrying on below him, and he has to wonder with a bitter sense of humor if they might be so lucky that their spat came across as a lovers’ quarrel instead.

 

* * *

 

Hux doesn't see Kylo the rest of the afternoon, which isn't much of a surprise. He doesn't make a point to seek him out, and he half wonders if Kylo might be making efforts to avoid him.

 

It's probably for the best, he thinks. Has to be.

 

When Kylo stormed out, Hux knew perfectly well what he was talking about--what it was that had him so upset. At least, he's fairly certain he knows, even if it is difficult to believe. Hux cursed himself for his hasty behavior, but it was hard beating himself up over something he didn't fully understand. He thought Kylo hated him now as much as he ever did, and yet… Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he doesn't know the first thing about what either of them want, and maybe he doesn’t understand that awful guilt sinking its claws back into his chest.  

 

...It’s all just for show, isn’t it?

 

What goes on behind closed doors doesn't matter. It isn't _real_ dammit! None of the things he thinks he feels are real. The compulsion to reach for him is fabricated. Forced. He's doing what he needs to in order to convince everyone else of that lie, and that's where his duties end.

 

It’s the same mantra he’s been telling himself for the past week and a half, _that’s all that matters_.

 

Only now, the words waver in his head, ending with a question mark instead of a period. Now, he isn’t so sure.

 

* * *

 

That night, he walks into their quarters to find it empty, which is a little surprising given how late it is. But it’s a blessing. Hux has a plan, and that plan probably wouldn’t work if Kylo was already there. It’s a bit of a bold move; he’s well aware of that. It has the potential to be taken the completely wrong way, and only serve to push Kylo even further away, but Hux doesn’t hesitate.

 

He works quickly, spending a few scant moments in the refresher before changing into his night clothes and tucking a single pillow under his arm. One of the blankets comes along with it, and he takes Kylo’s former place at the foot of the bed.  

 

It isn’t comfortable, not by any means. But Hux only tosses and turns for a few minutes at most. The exhaustion of the day sets in, and before he even knows it, he isn’t awake to hear Kylo come in. Nor does he wake when Kylo lifts him from the floor, body cradled carefully in his arms for the several steps it takes to reach the right side of their bed. Hux merely sleeps on, burrowing into the softness of a real mattress as soon as Kylo sets him down, the covers pulled up around him.

 

Hux doesn’t wake until morning, when he blinks tired and confused at the state he’s found himself in--sinking into soft sheets instead of the unforgiving floor. And when he bolts upright, Kylo is nowhere to be found. Instead, only the crumpled blankets lie beside him, and when he slides a hand beneath them, he swears they still feel warm.

 

* * *

 

Hux is left feeling more confused than ever as he struggles to go about his typical duties. He constantly finds himself tempted by the urge to go find Kylo, to track him down and force them to talk about whatever the hell was going on. But he doesn't. He doubles his efforts to focus instead, knowing that he can't allow himself to get sidetracked, not today.

 

There’s a small gathering being held that night--a _party_ , you might call it, though Hux wrinkles his nose a little at the term. Only the higher ranking officers have been invited. It’s an informal occasion meant to bolster enthusiasm and encourage a certain sense of camaraderie, but Hux recognizes it for what it is; a test masquerading as a reward. Before now his public appearances with Kylo have been in strictly professional settings, places where it would be inappropriate to indulge in any overly-affectionate displays. Now, Snoke is eliminating that last line of defense… If people are expecting them to be more than polite associates, they have little reason not to act the part.

 

Hux meets Kylo just outside the door of the banquet hall that evening, and although they hadn't exactly spoken to plan it (hadn’t spoken at all, not since the day before), it was obvious that they both had the same idea--if they were supposed to be a couple, they should at least arrive together.

 

So Hux gives him a curt nod and Kylo holds out his arm, which he takes with only the briefest hesitation. He tucks it under his own and they head in, walking side by side with every ounce of confidence he can muster--and dammit if he can’t feel Kylo doing the same, radiating the sort of quiet power that threatens to make him weak in the knees. He wonders if it’s some sort of Force _thing_ , an aura that he’s physically creating to make everyone around him feel that way. But Hux knows that’s wishful thinking.

 

Hux’s only saving grace is that few of the officers are all that social to begin with. They all suffer the same sort of awkwardness as they try to make small talk before dinner, all the while still perched on Kylo’s arm. And when the Knight finally moves to pull away, Hux can’t tell if he’s relieved or disappointed. Kylo leans in to brush a half-hearted kiss over his temple as he does, slipping his arm free and stepping away from their current conversation without much preamble. Hux feels strangely cold standing there alone, and yet...like he can breathe a little easier. It’s confusing and he hates it--hates the way his face goes warm at the show of affection, no matter how much he reminds himself it’s exactly that; a _show_.

 

Except...it’s getting harder and harder to believe that. The gesture was a little stilted, yes, but felt startlingly natural in a way he hadn’t been expecting. Lieutenant Rodinon rambles on, but Hux doesn’t hear a word he says.

 

Thankfully, their meal arrives and provides everyone with a welcome distraction--and a full belly. Hux takes his seat beside Kylo, of course, and while they still don’t share more than a single word or two, mostly enjoying the meal in silence as the others talk amongst themselves, he swears there’s a grin tucked into the corners of that plush mouth.

 

Maybe it’s the wine giving him that warm-all-over feeling again, but he doesn’t mind it so much this time.

 

It’s a little later in the evening when their empty plates are whisked away, and it finally dawns on Hux, the sort of audience they have. He looks around the table and takes note that to some degree, they’re the center of attention. It’s intentional, surely.

 

He thinks about Snoke and the threats he’s made. Thinks about Kylo and his blasted mood swings and his self-sacrificing nature and the way his eyes are so dark and so _kind_ when he thinks no one is looking. Thinks about how the roar of conversation has quieted to an amicable hum. Thinks about how easily their attention could be drawn to himself and the Knight beside him.

 

He turns toward Kylo, tilting his head to one side so he can whisper almost directly into his ear.

 

“Kiss me.”

 

Kylo turns toward him as well, just the tiniest bit. And Hux isn’t quite looking at his face, but out of the corner of his eye he’s fairly sure he can see the surprise arching his dark brow.

 

“...What?”

 

“Kiss me,” he says again, the words rushing out of him on a breathy exhale, leaning in close enough that he could practically steal the kiss himself. “While everyone is watching.”

 

There's a beat of silence. He can almost hear the click of Kylo’s throat as he swallows, weighing his options. But before he has time to start second-guessing his request, there's a mouth against his own, lips warm and soft and just a touch uncertain. That tentativeness doesn't last long, though. Hux sighs into the kiss, relieved and content and he can feel Kylo melt against him.

 

No, it doesn't feel like a show at all.

 

It's meant for everyone watching, meant to prove just how close they supposedly are, but Hux can't focus on anything but Kylo. In that moment, they're the only two people in the room. All he wants to do is press closer still, until he's practically in Kylo’s lap where he can be greedy and take as much as he wants. But luckily, he catches himself before he gets that far, eyes fluttering open as they finally pause to breathe.

 

He's got one hand tangled in the Knight’s cowl, and when he glances down at it he flushes with embarrassment, gently pulling it free and smoothing the rough fabric back into place.

 

“Hux,” Kylo murmurs, drawing his attention back up. But it isn't Kylo that he's looking at.

 

He spares a fleeting glance out over the table and realizes his plan had worked entirely too well. He can feel the eyes on him, quickly darting away as he lifts his head, and more heat floods his face. He got what he wanted, hadn't he? He wanted them to see, to watch how comfortable they are with each other, to be convinced that they’re everything they claim to be. But it isn't the clinical, detached victory he'd intended it to be. He's dizzy with want and his heart is racing, more thoughts running through his mind than he can process at once.

 

Hux stands to excuse himself, his chair nearly toppling over, and slips out of the banquet hall as quickly and quietly as he can, not bothering to look back and see if Kylo might try and follow.

 

* * *

 

As it turns out, Kylo doesn't, not right away. Hux makes it all the way back to their room and doesn't slow down until the door’s shut behind him. It's blessedly quiet and he heaves a sigh of relief, glad to be away from everyone else. But it's a temporary respite.

 

He drags a hand through his hair, eyes squeezed shut, and replays the night over his in head. It's messy. He wonders if he made a mistake, if he should have been more subtle, but it's too late now. Instead, he can't decide if he’s dying to see Kylo, or terrified of facing him, and when he hears the pneumatics hiss open in the door behind him, he still hasn’t decided which it is.

 

Kylo--it has to be Kylo--steps inside, the soft rush of fabric and the surprisingly gentle thud of his boots coming to a stop just before the door seals shut one last time. Hux has his back to him, and he doesn’t budge, waiting for Ren to make the first move. _He_ might be able to pry into people’s thoughts and sense what they’re feeling, but Hux can’t. He stares out the window on the other side of the room and waits, shoulders tense.

 

He barely even registers the fact that Kylo’s stepping up behind him until there’s a gloved hand on his shoulder, and a wall of heat pressed against his back. Kylo still hasn’t said a word, but Hux can’t help the way his shoulder slump, muscles slowly relaxing like it’s a conditioned response to the Knight’s touch.

 

Kylo’s hand skims up over the slope of his shoulder to curl around the side of his throat instead, and tips his head forward to nuzzle into the nape of his neck.

 

“ _Hux._ ”

 

It’s a single syllable, whispered so quietly that it reminds Hux of the way he sometimes hears his name in the howling of the wind, and he’s cracked wide open.

 

Hux turns in Kylo’s arms and surges up to kiss him, passion and desperation overriding everything else. There isn’t any more thinking, no pausing to wonder what it is that’s happening between them. That would come later. Now….well, _now_ is all there is to it.

 

He feels Kylo’s hands come back up to cradle his jaw, and Hux reaches up to stop him. It surprises Kylo enough to make him end their kiss, pulling back just an inch or two to look at him properly, but before he might be tempted to ask what’s wrong, Hux is tugging at Kylo’s gloves, slipping them off and letting them drop to the floor. He does the same with his own, not once looking away from Kylo’s eyes until he can take his hands and place them back on his neck, Ren’s touch cool against his feverish skin.

 

It feels so startlingly intimate, a shiver racing up his spine. And judging by the way Kylo’s expression goes slack and flushed, he knows he can’t be the only one feeling it.

 

Before he knows what hits him, that one tiny act sets off an entire chain of events--hands tearing at dark clothes, a mouth claiming his own so fiercely he can barely remember to breathe.

 

Hux feels his hip collide with the mattress behind him and he finally stops for a moment, hands clutching at Kylo’s shirt. He meets the Knight’s eyes, gone dark and wild in the low light, and feels a surge of _fondness-arousal-affection-need_ hit him like a punch to the gut. In that moment, he knows he’s not even going to bother divesting Kylo of the rest of his clothes.

 

All that matters is that they’ve kicked off their boots by the time Hux urges-- _shoves_ \--him back onto the bed. Kylo’s lost his cowl and his belt, and Hux’s shirt is half undone, but that’s as far as they get when he climbs up to join him, straddling Kylo’s hips without an ounce of hesitation. Even Kylo has enough wits about him to look briefly surprised by his boldness, eyes flickering over Hux’s face and body like he isn’t sure it’s real.

 

“It’s a good look on you,” Hux murmurs, a satisfied grin curling his lips as he splays his palms wide across Kylo’s chest. He can feel the heat of his skin even through the remaining layers, teasing him with what he might eventually be able to have. It should scare him that it wants that--that he wants there to be a ‘next time’--but it feels like he’s already past the point of pretending.

 

“Should I even ask what that might be?” Kylo answers, his voice so impossibly deep as he returns the lazy smirk. Sometimes Hux swears he can feel the vibration of his words more than he can hear them, echoing in the cavity of his ribcage.

 

But Hux doesn’t answer. He flashes him a knowing sort of look before he rolls his hips down against Kylo’s and pleasure overtakes his features instead. It shouldn’t feel so good, not when there’s still far too much fabric between them, but it does. His body doesn’t seem to care about the fact that his cock is still trapped in his trousers, fattening against the unforgiving zipper. All it cares about is the friction he’s getting with each little shift and grind, so utterly _depraved_ and so utterly perfect.

 

His fingers curl in against Kylo’s chest, all but clawing at him as he finds a rhythm he can finally work with. He may not have the muscle mass that Kylo does, but he has flexibility by the pound, his body rolling against Ren’s like a desperate tide rising to meet the shore. Only, that desperation begins to grow before he can help it, his rhythm turning frantic as he chases after his pleasure with little mind for anything else.

 

“Hux,” Kylo murmurs, and there’s that rumble again, burrowing into his chest and making him whine. There’s a hand slipping up behind his jaw and another curling around his hip, taking hold of him and forcing him to slow back down. It guides him, and along with it, Hux finds himself tugged back down for another kiss.

 

It’s a kiss as slow as the movement of his body, lips parting until it becomes something deep and aching, and he feels as though he might just devour Kylo whole. What’s worse is that he feels like Kylo would certainly let him.

 

Maybe it’s that thought that finally tips him over the edge, gasping against Kylo’s mouth as he rocks down into the cradle of his hips. He knows that Kylo’s hard too--he can feel the heat of it with each grind and thrust, and all he wants is to make Kylo feel as good as he does. But it’s hard to focus on when his vision goes dark around the edges, pulse pounding in his ears as he shudders through his release and spills himself right there in his uniform.

 

It should be mortifying, coming in his pants like a teenager, but Hux can’t find it in him to be ashamed.  It feels like relief, like weeks work of tension all snapping in one breath-taking moment, and it leaves him feeling like he’s been hollowed out and filled with something warm and heavy instead as he tries not to collapse right where he is.

 

He isn’t sure how much time passes before he finally opens his eyes again, lips still parted as his panting breaths begin to slow back down to normal. He finds Kylo staring right back at him, and he finally does flush then, the heat rising in his face as the reality of it all sinks in.

 

“How does a trip to the refresher sound? And a warm shower?” Kylo hums softly, the hand that’s on his jaw slipping down so he can trace over Hux’s swollen lower lip with his thumb. It’s gentle and intimate and it isn’t helping Hux’s blush go away any faster.

 

But Hux thinks for a moment, shifts a little and feels that Kylo’s still achingly hard beneath him.

 

“But you didn’t--...”

 

“No. Not yet. But that’s why I’m hoping you might let me join you.”

 

Hux answers with a shuddery little sigh, a flicker of renewed arousal urging him to give his approval. There’s still so much to think about--so much to _talk_ about. They still have a week left before Snoke’s deadline, and two-thirds of the First Order’s officers have just watched their co-commanders kiss like lovesick cadets and then disappear like it never happened. It’s an area that Hux has no expertise in, and Kylo isn’t any better. But he feels a spark come to life in his chest, and a voice telling him that it’s worth the fight.

 

Hux licks his lips and nods.

 

“I’d like that very much.”    


**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](http://theearlgreyalpha.tumblr.com) if you'd like!


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